Pumpkin & Dummy Monsters
by LucidityEater
Summary: DISCONTINUED It takes a monster to quell a monster. But this time the fight turns a little personal. Interpretation of momocashew's Pumpkin & Dummy series. (TW: gore, cannibalism, suicide attempt)
1. Before Halloween: 1

_I originally wasn't going to write anything for this series, but then this just happened so I'll be publishing it. I hope you enjoy it!_

* * *

Luring him in was the easy part. Keeping him in his place wasn't.

* * *

**Before Halloween**

* * *

**O**

It was the first day at school. All the innocents, gathered in one place, unaware of the monsters among them. People screaming as they saw their best friends for the first time in weeks, new kids unsure of their surroundings, books and bags dumped on the floor as students sorted out their locks.

I was putting my books away, checking the lessons I needed to prepare for, when I sensed something. I turned.

He was to my left, a few lockers down, fumbling with his combination. His hair was honey-gold, with a few shades of caramel thrown in, tied up in a messy ponytail. He had a fringe-thing that looked less like hair and more like a cluster of super-sized banana lollies he had stuck to his forehead. His blue eyes flicked around, judging. I could see the insults bubbling beneath as he glanced at the girl in the wheelchair, the boy with only four digits on his left hand, the clumsy new students, the people with glasses.

I shoved the last of my books into the locker and slammed it shut. I had his combination memorised, from the piece of paper he held, and his timetable. Hopefully he was in the same homeroom as I was, if not it was easily remedied. If he wasn't in the same house, that would have been harder, but possible.

I turned, struggling to hide my smile.

Time to go meet the monster.

* * *

**L**

My first day at a new school. I didn't really like the look of it; all the classrooms were littered with loose paper, the hallways were slightly grimy. The whole campus felt like a disorganised mess.

And then there were the people.

Freaks, everywhere, abnormalities. Nearly all of them were ugly. If they weren't they were likely to be self-centred idiots.

I leaned away from a girl who looked like she hadn't washed her hair for the entirety of the holidays, and tried opening my locker. 10-37-4. It wouldn't open.

I cursed and tried again, but my eyes kept wandering to the disabled girl. Pathetic. I wouldn't want that. Unable to walk, to run, dependent on people to help her with everyday activities.

I'd abandon her.

The boy with three fingers and one thumb. That was weird. There was no indication that he should have one more finger apart from his normal right hand.

The dial spun on the lock and I tugged at the door, but it still wouldn't open.

"Need help?"

I looked up. A kid was leaning on the locker next to me. The first thing I saw was his left eye, half closed. The iris should have been brown, like the other, but a white film had covered it, turning it a tawny hue, and the pupil a dark grey.

I tried not to stare at it as disgust rose in me.

"I'm fine, thanks."

"You sure?" He flicked his blond hair out of his good eye. "It looks stuck."

I stood there, unsure and slightly defiant. Accept help? I needed it, but why would I take help from a freak like this?

The kid glanced down at the paper in my hand and reached for the lock, spinning it three times on 10, two times on 37, and once on 4.

"See? Like that." He grinned. A faint aroma of sickly sweet chocolate surrounded him.

I didn't reply. My eyes kept flicking from the floor to his damaged eye.

"Oh I'm sorry!" he suddenly exclaimed, pulling an eyepatch out of his pocket and slipping it over his head. "I forgot this. Anyway, homeroom starts in a few minutes, so I'd hurry," he said over his shoulder as he hurried away.

I stood there for a few moments, puzzled, then tipped my books into my locker and hurried down the corridor with diary in hand, making sure to avoid everyone I thought seemed strange. There was a boy and a girl discussing particles, atoms and things. Nerds always seemed like they wanted to beat everyone, and then they flaunted their knowledge in your face. I hated it.

"Room 12, Room 12," I muttered to myself, consulting the map in the diary. I swore. I had been going in the wrong direction.

Muttering, I turned around. I was just as stupid as the rest of the people here!

I started running. I'd be late, I didn't want to be late-

A shout, and then I crashed to the floor, my diary flung out of my hands. I had run into the wheelchair girl.

"Keep out of the walkway, will you?!" I snapped, scooping up my diary.

Heads turned, but I ignored them. They weren't worth my time. No one ever seemed worth my time.

Room 12 appeared ahead of me, the paint peeling off the door. This school was decrepit.

* * *

**O**

I was already through the door when the first insult landed. It was only a small one, simple impoliteness, but insults tended to add up, no matter how small. I couldn't stop it, I was too far away. The faint shock and hurt reverberated through my body, even though it was not mine. Such a pity.

"Oliver!" the teacher cried. "How's it going?"

"Good, yeah," I replied, settling down on a chair and pulling a lollipop out of my pocket. Ms Samson was a nice teacher, but, like all teachers, she was subject to the rumours and belittling conversations held by many students. She never heard what they said, though, and went blissfully on with her work.

She noticed the lollipop and frowned. "Your parents can't keep you away from sugar, can they."

"Nup," I said, mouth full.

The other kids in the room were talking among themselves, ignoring me. It was fine. I wasn't supposed to have friends, not with what I do. But I suppose it is hard not to get attached.

I faced the doorway. He was coming closer, I could sense it inside him, sickly sweet decay.

He walked inside and froze when he saw me, then tore his eyes away.

"Ah, you're Len, aren't you," Ms Samson said. "I'm Ms Samson. Hey everyone, please welcome Len, he's one of our new students."

Len? Strange name.

"Thankyou miss," he said. He had a strange voice, light, sort of sweet, but with a hard edge, like salted caramel. He pulled a chair off a pile and sat down, a considerable distance from everyone in the room. His hard blue eyes kept judging, the teacher, students, inanimate objects. The disgust filled his entire body.

I dug in my pocket, found a strawberry chew, and threw it at him. It landed in his lap. Ms Samson looked up but didn't say anything.

Len picked up the chew between finger and thumb and stared at it suspiciously, before looking around. He didn't know who threw it. I watched him unwrap it, and then he popped it in his mouth.

I inwardly grimaced. I wouldn't eat something if I didn't know where it came from.

Something else about him was puzzling…ah. Twins. His sister was somewhere else. With his mother? Father? I wasn't sure.

I flipped through my diary to the 31st of October. Eight months away, enough time. Perhaps.

I listed all the lollies and sweets I wanted to get, and then snapped it shut and stood before walking over to Len.

"Do you need help getting to class?" I asked.

"I'll be fine," he muttered, keeping his gaze on his hands.

"We have the same timetable," I said, watching the disgust in him increase until it seemed ready to spill over. I lied, my lessons were different, but then again it was another thing easily remedied.

"Fine," he snapped, glancing up at me with an exasperated expression. His eyes immediately zeroed in on the eyepatch I wore.

"Great." Or not. For him, that is. "You want some chocolate?"

"No I don't want your chocolate, Cyclops, get away from me."

Ms Samson glared at him. "Young man, that is not appropriate behaviour, especially for your first day, or any day for that matter. Hand me your diary."

Grumbling, he gave it to her. I tried not to smile. Maybe his behaviour would make this easier.

"A bad mark on your first day? C'mon man, try harder," I said, tossing a chocolate from hand to hand. "Give a good impression."

"Shut up," he hissed, so that Ms Samson wouldn't hear.

I shrugged and returned to my chair. He'd come round soon enough. If not, well…a price will have to be paid.

* * *

**L**

That idiot with the eyepatch kept following me after I left, spouting useless advice. I didn't want it nor need it.

The first lesson I had was English, in a room off the main building. The paint was peeling around its doorframe too, and there were cracks in the brick walls.

The other kids were at the entrance, milling around. They were misfits like all the others, strange, defective, useless.

Standing awkwardly by the wall was an ugly girl with a worried expression, like she had no idea where she was or what she was doing. She probably belonged in a special ed class. Her hair was in an unkempt plait that was way too long, down to her hips, and she was slightly overweight, which I found gross. I resolved to stay as far away from her as possible.

I stood away from the group, unable to bring myself to even stand near them. I caught the Eyepatch kid smiling at the ugly girl. How he could even like her I had no clue.

As they lined up I tagged onto the end of the group, but the girl was there too, and she bumped into me.

Her barely audible "sorry" was drowned by my voice.

"Watch it, you obese pig!" I hissed.

"Hey!"

It was Mr Eyepatch, coming to her rescue.

"What?" I glared at him. "I can say what I want."

He tilted his head. "It's not nice."

"I don't need to be nice." Can't people keep their weight in check? Seriously, it's easy to not eat.

Eyepatch raised his eyebrows. Behind him the pig looked like she was going to cry. Really. I point out a fact and she starts crying. Pathetic.

The teacher's voice made me turn.

"Boys, get in line please."

I muttered a rude word. Why didn't the teacher call out the girl? She was out of line too.

* * *

**O**

He wouldn't change easily, that was for sure. Everyone was a victim to him. He didn't even know anyone, he just fired off his insults and soured everyone's lives.

As we sat down I did my best to sugar-coat the words he had thrown at Zania. She was shy, she didn't know how to talk to anyone apart from her close friends, and she didn't have any classes with them. She didn't know how to talk to me, for that matter, but I didn't want her to. I wasn't a good friend.

* * *

**L**

The Eyepatch kid was called Oliver, and he was in all of my classes, every single one. He kept tailing me, commenting on everything I said or did, no matter how many times I told him to go away.

On the way home I thought something was following me, but when I turned to look nothing was there. But I swear I heard something, high-pitched laughter…

* * *

_This was spontaneous so I feel it's a little shoddy in terms of quality, but I'll do my best to improve in later chapters. Thanks for reading!_


	2. Before Halloween: 2

_This is full of clichés, but nearly everything's full of __clichés these days so...  
I've been working on this more than Loucetios because this frankly has a more casual style for me to write and I'm also a lazy twat but anyway enjoy these two and their various faults. _

* * *

**L**

The next few days were filled with the most boring lessons I ever had the misfortune to be in, and the freaks I had to sit next to made it worse. It was like they were calling me a dog by putting me with all these mutts. The summer heat made it worse, sweat coating every inch of skin whether it was in the sun or out of it, and the air-conditioning in the rooms made me wish for a jumper.

Friday afternoon. I had stuffed all my books into my bag and was standing in the hallway trying to hoist it up onto my shoulders. It felt like it was filled with lead bars.

"Need help?" a voice asked behind me.

"No," I said sharply, staring at the floor instead of his missing eye.

"Mate, that bag weighs a ton-"

"Get the hell away from me," I snapped, spinning around to face him. He looked slightly shocked, served him right though.

"Alright, alright," he said, walking away. "But my locker's next to yours."

I said nothing, and after swinging my bag onto my shoulders and nearly breaking my back I headed out of the grounds.

The sweltering heat seared my skin, and the roads had partially melted. Sweat beaded on my face as I trudged down the cracked footpath.

I missed Rin. Why couldn't we have stayed together? At least we knew each other, as family, even if she was only a little better than the freaks I had to deal with. But Dad had to take her away…

The divorce was their fault, and their fault alone, but guilt kept wracking me even though there was no reason for it. Maybe if I had said something, instead of staying silent when the yelling started.

Rin had yelled too, shrieked, screamed her rage at them, but they didn't listen to her. They should have. Maybe if I was like her they wouldn't have split…maybe if I was a freak they would have stayed together…

But freaks cause nothing but more problems, and that was the last thing I wanted. What I did want, I couldn't have. Not anymore.

Footsteps behind me jolted me out of the reverie, and I turned to see Oliver walking behind me, hands in pockets, the bag on his back sagging under the weight of all his books.

"What the – why are you following me?!" I shouted at him.

"I'm walking home," he said, unperturbed.

I started walking faster. "No you're not! You've never come this way!"

"I stayed back at school for Ex. I don't have it on Fridays." He fished a lolly snake from his pocket and bit into it.

I stayed silent as we waited at a road crossing. The sweet aroma that accompanied him made my stomach churn.

"Do you have a problem?" he asked.

"You're the ones with problems."

He raised his eyebrows. "Girl in English class, long hair. The disabled girl. Kid with three fingers."

I breathed out through gritted teeth.

"Leave them alone."

"Leave _me_ alone," I spat. The light for the crossing turned green, and I stepped onto the road. "I'll call the police if you don't stop stalking me-"

He gave a surprised shout and grabbed my bag as the truck rushed by, inches from me, the speed of the vehicle sucking the air from my lungs as he pulled me back. The truck sped onwards, its driver hadn't even noticed me on the road.

Oliver let go of my bag, his eye wide. My breathing was ragged and came in bursts, my heart was racing, my hands shaking.

I stared at him, mind blank from the shock, and he stared back, until I turned around and crossed the road, after making sure there were no vehicles approaching.

ooo

The keys turned in the lock and I pushed the door open to our new house. A cool air-conditioned breeze blew over my face as I tossed my bag onto the splintered desk in the corner of the living room and went to go upstairs.

As I passed the kitchen my mum called out to me.

"Yeah?" I asked, poking my head around the corner. She was standing by the sink, holding a potato in one hand. More potatoes were clustered on the bench, along with a packet of sausages. The tap was rusted, and one of the cupboard doors wouldn't close properly.

"How was school?" she asked, that clichéd question. Her blue eyes were staring at me, trying to figure out something. Blue eyes. She looked so much like Rin. She looked so much like me.

"Alright…" I said, coming into the kitchen and pulling a pot out of the top cupboard where I knew she couldn't reach. "Nothing happened." There was no way I was going to tell her I had almost been run over.

She waited a moment, and murmured her thanks for the pot before enquiring again.

"Did you make any friends?"

I had heard that question every day for the past week, and every day the answer was no.

I shook my head, resisting the urge to look down at the floor.

"Oh." Her voice was frail.

I hesitated, then went over to her and hugged her. Her thin hand tugged at my ponytail, like she used to do when I was little.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, releasing her.

She didn't acknowledge the apology. If she did, she would be afraid she would have to accept it.

I didn't look at her as I left, instead staring at the worn linoleum that lined the kitchen floor, and then at the threadbare carpet. The move had been hasty, and Mum hadn't wanted to spend too much, in case she couldn't get a job straightaway. She had got one, though, but the pay wasn't the best, so we were stuck in a dilapidated building.

The stairs creaked under my weight, and the door to my room screeched in protest when I opened it.

I laid down on the hard mattress and breathed out, slowly. Trapped with all these stupid freaks. And that Oliver. If he didn't stop pestering me I_ would_ call the police.

The shrill ringing of the phone echoed through the house, and then a voice drifted up from below, sharp-edged in its frailness. I squeezed my eyes shut, cringing, but couldn't bring myself to plug my ears. I was drawn to the words, the tone they used, the harshness present in every argument.

"No, Eric, I don't…that was your own fault…no…he's fine…." A clash as a pot was slammed down. "No, Eric, don't you dare talk to my boy...was I meant to do?!...shut up…you separated them…put….on….Eric, put Rin on the goddamn phone!"

Her voice faded, though I knew it wasn't silent.

Heavy footsteps marched up the stairs, and then she knocked on the open door.

"Len? Rin's on the phone."

Her eyes were red.

I took the phone and turned to the window to avoid my mother's anguished face.

"Rin?"

"Afternoon, idiot."

My sister's voice emanated from the phone, crackly with static. It sounded like mine, only higher pitched and feminine.

"I wasn't expecting the goblin to answer," I said, smiling involuntarily. Mum always called us a pair of goblins, we annoyed her so much.

"Shut up Len." A sigh. "Always I have to keep my little brother in line…"

"Don't forget I almost died because of you."

"That was an accident!"

A pause.

"How...How is she?" Rin asked. "She wouldn't say much to me…"

I turned around to make sure Mum had left the room. "Not that well…she's not…she's not talking to me either, and I don't know what to say. She's not eating much…"

All I could hear was Rin's breathing, loud and _there_, real, something to lean on.

"Is Dad…?" I couldn't finish.

"He's calmed down. Apart from a rant every two days. The neighbours called the police last night because they thought something had happened…But of course, our dear father won't ever abandon us, oh no, his _dear little children don't deserve to suffer._" Her voice hardened as she imitated his voice. "He talks to himself way too much."

"….Are you okay?"

"I can take care of myself," she huffed, "unlike a certain brother of mine."

"I'm your only brother."

She didn't reply for a few seconds.

"How's school?" I ventured, unsure.

"Normal, I guess. Not as many….as much...you know…disturbances."

A few moments of silence.

"Look, just, take care of yourself, okay? I'll see when I can visit," she said. "Hopefully he won't give me too much trouble."

"Hopefully." I sighed.

"See you, Len."

"Bye…Rin."

The phone beeped, and was silent.

_"__Rin and Len, left and right, up and down, black and white," _I whispered. Mum had come up with the little rhyme. She meant us, our family, to be inseparable. It had been…now it was shattered.

* * *

**O**

The truck driver hadn't run a red light. It was a simple matter of making sure he didn't see us, and making the crossing light green in Len's eyes. I had altered his hearing too, by removing the sound of the truck approaching. If Len had actually been hit it would have been a disaster. I would ruin more than a few lives in one stupid mistake. It wasn't my job to kill people, I was meant to save them. Guardian angel were the words someone had used, though benevolence was not one of my strong suits, especially not towards the monsters. The methods I employed were bittersweet, and sometimes even I choked on the taste. But over the years I had gotten used to it, and managed to keep some people from harm. However, I am only one, and the world is filled with monsters. I knew of others that would bring those down, but I had only met one, and she had been eroded down, her eyes glassy, her words soured by decades of servitude. Her mind had cracked too, on the verge of shattering completely.

The thought of what I may become makes me shudder. The thought of what I already was had adverse effects when it was first made known to me. My mortality was taken, as payment. I would never age. I could, of course, die from other means, a car crash, a knife, but otherwise I was immune, to poisons as well as diseases. But the knowledge that I would continue on as an empty shell while my friends and family filled their short lives with all the things life has to offer had nearly driven me insane. Not that my sanity is completely intact at the moment…

* * *

_Well damn looks like I accidentally modelled Len and Rin's parents on my own, if only slightly. Oops._

_Thanks for the kind reviews and the advice as well, I hope this is of better quality. My a__pologies for this being a little shorter than the previous chapter._

_ And the Australian summer does tend to melt roads._


	3. Before Halloween: 3

_Alright, here's the next chapter. Just be aware that self-harm is discussed in this chapter, and since Len is an ass he's one of those who think people (including me) are attention seekers and all that rubbish, so be careful if you need to. Oliver's view is meant to be the opposite but I may still have given him the bigoted personality, so tell me if I've made him do something wrong._

_Take care!_

* * *

**L**

Noises in the kitchen woke me, and I kept my eyes closed as my body shook off the remnants of sleep. It was sweltering hot in my room, I didn't understand how I had even managed to sleep. The nights didn't cool down like they said.

I slowly sat up and pulled on a shirt and some shorts, the whirring of the fan sounding between the clashes of pots in the kitchen.

"Mum," I called as I plodded down the stairs, barefoot, "do you know how loud that is?"

She was standing on a chair in front of the sink, trying to organise the cupboard above it. She looked over her shoulder at me, then carefully stepped down and went to give me a good morning hug.

"At least you won't need an alarm," she said, ruffling my hair. She was smiling, and fragile smile that could break any moment. "Eggs for breakfast?"

"I can make them," I said, stepping around her to the table. "What exactly were you trying to do?"

"Just…you know, the saucepans and things won't fit properly…we need new ones anyway." Her eyes shifted away from me and then flicked back up to mine. She wanted to get me out of the house. I hadn't left for the past three weeks except to go to school, I didn't want to be near all the freaks in town.

"Come on," she said, her smile wavering. "You can't stay shut up in here all the time. Besides, we need proper food."

I tried not to sigh as I climbed onto the chair and peered into the cupboard. "There's mildew in the corner."

"Take everything out then."

I passed each pot down to her, and she put them on the bench, until every available bit of space was taken and things started piling up on the table. There were old boxes of cereal and grains we had brought over stuffed in the corner and Mum threw them out as soon as I handed them to her.

"Look at this place," she whispered, involuntarily.

"Mum," I said, firmly, trying to keep my own voice from shaking. "Don't." I hated it when she cried.

"Sorry Len," she said, rubbing her face with her sleeve. I jumped down from the chair and wrapped her in my arms, she stood there for a moment, trembling, before pulling away and sitting down at the table, her eyes wandering over the text on a box of Cadbury Roses.

"Let me make you something." I pulled out the eggs and picked a frying pan off the pile, setting it on the stove and pouring a bit of olive oil in it.

"No, it's fine Len," she said, a delayed reaction as I was already whisking the eggs. "Len, let me do it…"

"I'm alright," I said, but she stood up, and wandered to the stove, pulling out some matches to light it. The smell of sulphur made me cough. "Thanks."

The eggs sizzled when I poured them in and she watched me cook them, her hair like straw and her eyes like glass.

"Thank you," she breathed when I put some on a plate for her. "Oh. Toast. We need toast." She fumbled with a bag on the floor and I took the plate before she dropped it.

"Mum, stop, sit down," I told her. "Let me get it."

She settled into the chair, and I fished some bread slices from the bag, glanced at the toaster, shrugged, emptied the pan onto my plate and fried the bread in olive oil. She laughed when she saw what I was doing.

We ate in silence, just egg and bread and our emotions on our plates. Two empty chairs sat next to us, their occupants ghosts, for now.

Mum's fork clattered onto her empty plate and she pushed her chair back. There was that frail determination in her eyes.

"Shoe and hat," she said to me, "now. I'm dragging you out shopping."

"Mum-" I protested. I couldn't go out there, those stupid freaks would taint me.

"Len," she insisted. I looked at her hands. They were thin, paper white, weak.

I shook my head in defeat. "Fine."

* * *

**O**

I lay in bed with my eye closed, wondering why I felt so shaky. It was like popping candy had been placed under my skin, causing me to jump at everything – even though I couldn't be harmed. Was it the new monster in town, Len? His family…

Why would his family be any different to the others that had been broken apart? Was there something even more wrong with them other than Len? He was only a small threat to the world now, I just had to stop him before he brought them all down with him.

I sat up. My hands looked like they had been made out of milk chews. They shook.

"Tell me what will happen," I asked the empty air. "Tell me…"

No answer. Their visits were such rare occasions that my memories of them were as stale as old chocolate, even though the information I had was as fresh as though they had told me yesterday. Perhaps it was best that I finish my job before they decided to come again…

"Leave me be for now…"

The pins and needles sensation slowly vanished, and I staggered to the door of my room, my legs shaking like jelly.

ooo

"I'm going out!" I called, pushing the door open. My…parents, yes, they _were_ my parents, allowed me to go out whenever I wished, simply because everyone else thought of me as 'the sweetest little boy'. A little quiet, but well mannered. At least, that was what they saw. Few know what I am, few realise what I can do.

"Oliver!" my father yelled. "At least warn us beforehand!"

"Sorry!" I shouted, slamming the door shut and dashing down the street, feet pounding against the footpath. I made sure to say well away from any large cracks, lack of depth perception is somewhat inconvenient, especially when it lands you on the ground with a nasty graze to your head.

I glanced down the next street, houses lining the crooked road. He lived there, with his mother, and he would be in town. I could try again…he'd come round anyway.

* * *

**L**

I trudged along with my mum, the floppy brimmed hat keeping my ears from being seared off by the ridiculous heat. She seemed invigorated by the sun, she loved the daytime, the light.

The people around us didn't give us a second glance as we walked towards the main road, the one with all the shops on it. I kept my eyes on the ground, hoping no one would come near, but every now and then they'd step too close and I'd jump back. I didn't want them near me, they were worthless wastes of space, aberrations. Creatures that didn't know how _wrong_ they were, that didn't know why they were useless, why they were no help.

"Chin up," Mum said, smiling at me. I sighed, facing the street and the freaks that lived there. "Don't look so miserable, there's no reason to."

"Yes there is," I muttered, and her smile faded before she caught it again.

"What do you want to buy?" she asked, trying to change the subject, mounting the steps that led to the main road.

"I just want to get the groceries and go back," I said, trying not to stare at the people. Why.

She stopped talking, and led me down the cracked footpath, her false smile never wavering.

Up ahead was the grocer's, vegetables stacked in boxes and wilting in the heat, and between us and the building was someone I did not want to see.

"Who's that?" Mum asked as Oliver waved at me, an idiotic grin plastered all over his deformed face.

"No one," I said, pretending not to notice him, realising that I should have said 'who?' in response.

"Len!" Oliver called, skipping up to us. "Is this your mum?"

Her face had lit up like a lightbulb had been turned on inside her, and she seemed happier than I had seen her in the past six months.

"Hello, yes I'm Lily," she said, beaming. She offered her hand, and before I could stop her Oliver had shook it. "Len's my son."

"Ah," he said, nodding. "How've you been, Len?"

I gaped at him, aghast, how dare he talk to me as if we're friends, as if he was normal just like me, as if he fit in.

"Len," Mum said, gesturing at him.

"I don't know him," I insisted, stepping back. "He's not my friend."

"Le-en," Oliver said, voice sickly sweet. He still smelt of chocolate.

I shook my head, backing away, and I noticed beneath his sleeves – long sleeves in this weather? – there were bandages wrapped around his wrists.

Revulsion built up in me and I double over, trying not to throw up as nausea filled my stomach. He-He self-harmed – he mutilated himself, his mind was one of those twisted mazes that would be better off not existing, he'd poison society. He – how could he, it didn't solve any problems, how could he be stupid enough to fall for that? He was a filthy attention seeker, a selfish wretch.

"Len!" Mum grabbed my shoulders. "Sorry Oliver, I should take him home." She turned me around, and I managed to throw a glare in his direction. He was still smiling.

* * *

**O**

I stood there, grinning if I had not a care in the world. I knew he had seen my bandages, they weren't fake. That was what happened when I first found out…

The disgust I had seen in him could drive people even further than what I did. Especially if he voiced his thoughts on the only coping method that worked for some people. Attention seeking, well, if they are in a situation that drives them to such lengths then they should be paid some attention, they should be helped, the things doing this to them should be removed.

I watched them get smaller and smaller and finally turn down another street, and I started to wander around, pondering. So that was his mother? She seemed quite frail, brittle as toffee, broken by the divorce and losing one of her children. Perhaps I shouldn't be doing this to her son, but he would ruin more than a few lives if he was allowed to go on. I needed to do this, I needed to bring the monster down.

"Oliver," a voice said behind me, and chills went down my spine at the sound. It was a girl, eight years old, a temporary vessel for the ensuing conversation.

"It may be 'bittersweet', as you say, but the people need to be protected," she said, eyes blank and glassy and held hostage to something far older. "You know the payments, you paid, and this is what you gain."

I offered a grin, the creature's guise rendered it almost powerless. No threat, just a little girl. "You know I wouldn't even dream of abandoning you."

She chuckled, apparently that was taken the wrong way. "Remember you are under our command, our _power_. If we wish it we could kill you." She smiled, an innocent honey smile. "But you are too valuable an asset."

"An asset, an object is all I am to you." My expression soured. "Contact me if you have something valuable to say, not to drabble on about my incompetence. Leave."

She raised her eyebrows, and walked away, the little girl missing a step as the creature left her body.

I let out a long breath, the popping candy sensation starting up again under my skin. I was fine on my own…

* * *

_Arghaha life hates me._


	4. Before Halloween: 4

_A/N: this took a while. Sorry about the delay, things got hard for me. _

_This chapter's shorter and just contains a Len section. He's still pretty flat, so I'm trying to flesh him out (Morgan am I doing this better...?)_

_I've changed the rating and added some more warnings as this fic will get pretty messy..._

_Also Loucetios has been discontinued, and I'll take it down shortly._

* * *

**L**

I sat in the chair, taking deep breaths as my heart refused to slow down. My mouth still tasted of bile.

"Len…" Mum sat in the chair next to me, her eyes wide and anxious. "What happened? Was it the eggs?" Her pale hands clutched a glass of water.

"I don't know." My voice shook a little. I knew perfectly well. "I'll be fine."

She leaned closer, holding the glass out to me. "Len," she said, "you just threw up, for no reason." Her eyes studied me, the blue like the endless sky that saw everything. "Was it because of…?"

I pressed my lips together, drumming a rhythm on the tabletop with my fingers. I hated this.

She sighed, setting the glass on the table. "I still don't understand…why people like that…why you react like this."

"I don't want to explain again." I rested my head in my hands. I was confused as well. I shouldn't _need_ to explain. It was so plain to see, but their shoddy acts and masks of normalcy fooled too many people. And my mother was the most vulnerable person I knew.

"But Len…they haven't done anything wrong."

"They _existed_," I snapped, my voice hardening. At the sight of her paling face I bit back my words. "I'm…I'm sorry."

She slumped back in the chair, running a hand over her face. Her eyes had dark patches beneath them. "Len…"

I shook my head and pushed back the chair, the movement sending nausea swirling through me. "I don't want to discuss this now. I'm gonna lie down."

She let me go, too tired to protest. I glanced back as I left the kitchen, and saw her resting her head on the wooden table, her hands tangled in her straw hair.

I mounted the stairs slowly, slowing constantly so I wasn't sick again. Goddammit, why did this happen to me…

I entered my room and hit the mattress, sending pain through my leg as my knee collided with one of the springs. I gasped and held onto it, rolling over to stare at the ceiling.

My room had a wardrobe and a small cupboard that doubled as a bedside table. Both were made from a dark, scuffed wood, and the steel screws were showing through, the sharp ends rusted. The light by my bed was just a bare bulb on a cord that shone glaringly bright, and was propped on a plate so the heat it generated wouldn't burn the cupboard.

My clothes were tossed about, a pair of jeans hanging off the door handle. A crumpled shirt lay beneath my head.

I tried closing my eyes, to see if I could sleep a bit, but it only made me notice the heat more. My skin was sticky with sweat. I got up to open the window, but the air outside seemed twice as hot as inside, and since the aircon didn't seemed to work that well I resorted to taking off my shirt and trousers and lying on the bed in my underwear. It was a little cooler.

I wanted everything back to normal, when it was me and Rin and Mum and Dad, living in the same house, eating at the same table, where the air wasn't stretched tight by tension and I wasn't scared to speak. I wanted a world without freaks in it, without flaws, where everything went perfectly, followed plans to the letter, where nothing went wrong…

The phone buzzed as my mind was starting to fog with sleep. I groaned in frustration, reaching over to check who the hell wanted to ring me.

Rin. Rin wanted to ring me just as I was falling asleep. Great.

"Yes?" I slurred, rolling over to lean on my elbows.

"Are you drunk or something?" was her response. "It's midday."

"Midday."

"Yes Len it's the middle of the day." She waited as I mumbled something incoherent. "Wake up."

"I was sick all over the bathroom just then. Cut me some slack."

"Eurgh. Mate, that's disgusting. Why were you sick?"

"Rin…" I groaned again.

"The freaks again, huh?"

"Are you gonna yell at me too?"

"Mum yelled at _you_?! She doesn't yell!"

"No, Rin, she didn't yell at me," I muttered, closing my eyes. "But it felt like it."

"I don't blame her," came the voice from the other end of the line. She said it so matter-of-factly. Like I was the one doing things wrong.

I let the line sit for a while, listening to rustlings as Rin moved around, probably rearranging papers or something.

"What happened?" she finally asked. "Also, in case you didn't notice, I got a new mobile."

"Yeah…mobile. You sound American or something." I briefly glanced at my phone's cracked screen.

"Americans say cellphone." She sniffed. "What happened?"

"There's this kid in my year and he keeps stalking me—"

"Stalking? As in following you home?"

"No, but he's in all my classes and he keeps wanting to talk to me." I didn't mention that he did follow me halfway home and pulled me out from in front of a speeding truck. "He has…scars…"

"Len." Her voice was hard as steel. "If Dad wasn't home I'd yell at you. You can't—"

"Don't tell me," I hissed, "what I can do."

"You can't fix this bloody family is what you can't do, dear brother, and bothering other people isn't gonna help either." She let out a long, frustrated breath. "I'm gonna hang up before you really get on my nerves. Talk to you tomorrow."

"Bye."

I dropped the phone and let myself collapse onto the bed, my nose squashed painfully against a spring. I couldn't breathe with my face squashed against the cloth but I lay there for a few moments anyway, listening to the aircon and my mother moving around in the kitchen.

When Rin got angry she became like Dad, red-faced and harsh voiced.

I guess that made me like Mum. Frail, weak, brittle. But I wasn't. I was better than that.

I was better…


	5. Author's Note

I know all of you reading this will be very annoyed, and I am sorry for inconveniencing you. This story has been discontinued, as I would like to focus on what I view as more important things in my life, such as family, friends, and original projects.

I will be on a permanent hiatus from fanfiction writing, unless a Hamlet one-shot decides to pop up. This account will not be deleted, nor will any stories. I will read all reviews and attempt to respond to all PMs.

Thank you all for reading, and again, I'm sorry for the inconvenience.

LucidityEater


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